I clenched my fists tightly, trying to steady my nerves. The memories of what they had done—especially that Black man—flashed through my mind like wildfire. He kept darting his eyes around, clearly aware of my presence but avoiding my gaze. It was almost laughable.
Sensing the rising tension within me, my wife gently reached for my hand and held it tightly. Her touch grounded me, easing the storm just a little. Just wait, I told myself. Be patient. I'll make him pay—double for what he did. But not now.
"We need to go. Now," I said firmly, addressing the group.
We started running again, chaos on our heels. We were nearly trapped—those lunatics kept following us without pause. Just when it seemed we had no way out, a woman opened a door for us. Apparently, they knew her. Daniel quickly introduced her to me.
"She's Travis's ex-wife," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. That's… awkward, I thought. But there's no time for drama right now.
We exited through a side entrance and emerged into a large parking area. Madison and Travis kept shouting, calling out names into the smoke and confusion.
"Who are they calling for?" I asked Daniel, still scanning our surroundings.
"Madison's daughter and Travis's son," he replied.
"Alright," I said, voice steady. "We need to keep moving."
Just then, that same Black man looked at me again—intense, and watchful. I met his gaze without flinching. Two teenagers suddenly burst out of the building, shouting that soldiers had taken their car.
"Great," I muttered. "Looks like we're not going anywhere anytime soon."
"Leah, stay with the kids," I told my wife. She nodded, rounding up the children.
Daniel and I began checking every nearby car. Time was against us. Smoke thickened in the air and gunfire echoed faintly in the distance. Eventually, we found three cars—one of them still had keys in the ignition. Luck, or something else.
We quickly divided ourselves. One car for me and my family. Another for that Black man, Nick, and Daniel's daughter. The third for Travis, Madison, Travis's Ex-wife, and the two teenagers. No time for debate.
Engines roared to life, and we sped out of the arena-like structure—straight into chaos. The entire safe zone was falling apart. Fires raged across buildings, people screamed in every direction, and gunshots rang out like distant thunder.
That Black man shouted for us to follow him. I hesitated—deep down, I still didn't trust him. But I owed Daniel a favor. So, for now, I followed.
But this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Eventually, we drove far enough from the chaos. The fires, the screaming, the collapse of the so-called "safe zone"—all left behind us in the smoke and ash. We followed the Black man, who led us down a narrow canal road. He finally pulled over and stepped out of his car without saying a word.
One by one, the rest of us exited our vehicles. The tension was thick as we stood in a loose circle, staring at one another—strangers bound by shared trauma and forced cooperation.
"What are you doing?" I asked sharply, my voice cutting through the silence.
He looked at me with a mix of guilt and calm. "I know what I did was wrong," he said. "But I did what I had to do to survive."
His words nearly sent me over the edge. My fists clenched instinctively. If my children hadn't been standing nearby, I might've put him on the ground right then and there.
He dares say that in front of my family? After everything?
But years of discipline held me back. I wasn't just some hot-headed man—I was trained. A black belt in Taekwondo, with real combat experience to back it up. I knew how to handle myself—and more importantly, I knew when to hold back.
Then he looked me in the eyes and said, "I'm sorry for what I did to you and your family. I ask for your forgiveness."
A long silence followed. I didn't answer. My instincts were flaring.
Before the tension could rise again, he turned to address the whole group. "Now that we're here, we need to introduce ourselves before making any plans."
He raised his voice slightly so everyone could hear. "My name is Victor Strand."
I narrowed my eyes. The name meant nothing to me—but the way he said it, with that smooth confidence, triggered something in my gut.
I've worked as an attorney. Years of facing liars, manipulators, and people hiding the worst parts of themselves behind polished smiles had taught me to read people—and Strand? He reeked of deception.
That apology? A calculated move to lower my guard. The way he controlled the conversation? Classic manipulation.
So that's who you are, I thought, the kind that uses words like knives. The kind that plays the long game. A man who'd smile while slipping poison into your drink.
Out of everyone here, I knew I was the only one who truly saw through him. Well… almost the only one. I caught Daniel's eyes from across the group.
Yeah. He saw it too.
Victor Strand had fooled the others—for now. But not us.
Madison stepped forward first, her voice steady despite everything we'd just been through.
"I'm Madison Clark," she said. "This is my son, Nick, and my daughter, Alicia."
She placed a protective hand on both of them as she spoke, eyes flicking over the group with guarded trust.
Next, the man beside her spoke. He looked worn, but resolute.
"I'm Travis Manawa," he said. "This is Liza—my ex-wife—and our son, Christopher Manawa."
There was a brief, tense silence at the mention of "ex-wife," but no one commented. We all had bigger problems.
Then came the older man—quiet, intense, and with the kind of eyes that had seen too much.
"I'm Daniel Salazar," he said in a thick accent. "And this is my daughter, Ofelia."
I gave him a respectful nod. Out of everyone here, Daniel was the one I watched most closely—not because I didn't trust him, but because I respected how dangerous he could be.
Finally, I stepped forward. I kept my voice calm and composed.
"I'm Alex Caruso. This is my wife, Leah Caruso," I said, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. "And these are our children—Angel and Ray."
Everyone nodded. There was a strange moment of unity as we all stood there—wounded, shaken, but alive. For now, that was enough.
But I kept my eyes on Strand. Always on Strand.
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